


I love this team

by Reirachan



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Don't Read This, M/M, just a dumb idea, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 10:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reirachan/pseuds/Reirachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And that's why I'm not going to let them lose. Never, ever again"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I love this team

He remembered the cold sensation of tears rolling down his face, mixing with his burning sweat and cooling it down, like it was mocking him, like a reminder that all his effort was useless, all that sweat was giving up to tears because he had _failed_. He remembered the salty taste of the tears invading his mouth because he couldn’t keep it closed, cold and yet burning the skin. He remembered the feeling of defeat. He remembered the feeling of his own legs threatening to break him apart, shaking with the effort to stay still. He remembered how _bitter_ was the taste of tears and sweat, and that didn’t make any sense. More than anything, Kise remembered way too well the feeling of a sweating, hot arm around his waist, being the only thing to prevent him from collapsing there, and how humiliating that was, and yet _comforting_ , because for the first time someone actually cared about him, someone was really sharing the feeling of loss with him, someone was supporting him without caring that he was Kise, the ace, the generation of miracles. Someone was accepting his weaknesses and staying with him nonetheless.

Yes, he remembered exactly how it was to lose. But that didn’t break him down; the feeling was not overwhelming enough to turn into fear. Rather, it left him burning with the urge to win, to never have to be taken care of by anyone, to take care of the people he loved by never letting them cry over a loss again.

The pain pushed him further.

Kise trained. He trained hard, until his head twisted in dizziness and his legs collapsed and he fell on the ground. He trained until he ran out of stamina, his fingers shaking as his blood seemed to be exploding out of his body from the effort of running too fast. 

Nevertheless, he was happy. 

He was happy because he was improving. He was happy because he found himself surrounded by smiling faces and words of encouragement. He was happy because he knew that his teammates were relying on him – and he could rely on them as well. He was specially happy because, whenever he was finished practicing his shots, and would sit on the bench and drink some sports drink as he tried to regain his breath, there would always be that arms around his waist, cheering him up, pushing him further. A pair of greyish blue eyes that would stare at him in a mix of proud, worrying and joy.

“You did well.”

That was all he needed.

 

In the court, Kise is a monster.

Sweat is dripping from all over his body as he jumps with all his strength and slams the ball in the basket, and the scream that leaves his lips as he does that is anything but challenging. It’s the fourth quarter, and he is still running, passing, shooting, dunking and screaming. He could keep Perfect Copy going for the whole game now. He had improved all his skills to do anything the Generation of Miracles could do better than them. Faster, stronger, more nimble. He was better than anyone and he would not let anyone scare him. He was still being pressed further by that pair or arms that he would never forget. It didn’t matter if he was tired, because he loved all of that. He loved the feeling of giving it his all. He loved the feeling of hearing his teammate’s cheering and screams of joy. He loved the smile on each of those faces.

He loved Kaijou.

With a formless shot, Kise scored the last point before the bell rang. The match was over. Kaijou had won for 115 x 87 against Seirin. It was the end of the second winter cup of his life, and he was victorious. He opened his mouth to let out a scream of joy while all his teammates hugged him, jumping and singing together. Again, he could feel the strange mix of sweat and tears that fell into his mouth, but it wasn’t bitter at all. It was salty and sweet and hot, and even though he was crying he couldn’t take that smile off his face. It was the most honest smile he’d ever put on, and he could hear the fangirls on the audience, but he couldn’t care less. He could hear his teammates screaming and that was really important, but he still had something even more important to care about. He got rid of them, wiping his tears and looking straight at his target on the audience. They stared at each other for some minutes, and then Kise slowly, wordlessly lift up his arm, revealing a clenched fist that was pointed at that direction.

The other man imitated him, pointing his fist at him as well. Kise smiled, and it was wider and brighter than the one he had before. Their fists weren’t actually touching, but that did not matter. Because he was not being carried by those arms anymore, and still, they were pillaring him. Some minutes later, Hayakawa jumped on him, screaming with excitement about how amazing he was.  
Kise laughed as he lined up to greet the defeated team, a single thought on his mind.

_Thank you, senpai_


End file.
